“Are Maximus and Gabriel alive?”
“They were when we were brought here. Gabriel was injured. Maximus shackled in wormwood.”
Wormwood. Not good. He wouldn’t sicken and die as fast as a young vampyr would, but even the oldest and strongest of them would fall quickly to that particular lumber.
“What’d he spray in my face?” It still reeked whatever it was.
First on the agenda…locate a washcloth and scrub this shit off my skin.
“It smells like rose petals.”
Not expecting an answer, she elevated her eyebrows at the witch. Curious how the attacker discovered that in aerosol format, rose petals act as a cerebral flat liner to a siren. Only another siren could’ve fed her assailant that information.
“They’re my best friends, and I failed them.” Kat stared at her hands as she twisted her fingers together. “My magic should’ve protected us from an infiltration. I didn’t even know these goons were there until it was too late.”
“So you’re to blame? Good to know.” Sameya stood, finding her legs surprisingly steady. Walking didn’t shift the gadget in her bottom or hinder her movement either. Another plus in her favor.
“Yes,” Kat said in a very small voice. “I’ve brought shame to my coven.”
“You’re an idiot.”
Kat’s head snapped back, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Whoever’s magic this is, it’s stronger than yours. He is to blame. Your pity-party is counter-productive.” She tested a small serenade and was delighted when it didn’t rebound in her head. Serenading herself was an experience she never wanted to repeat. “Why aren’t you wearing iron fetters?” Other than the bump on the witch’s forehead, she appeared relatively unharmed.
“No need for shackles when his magic does the job easy enough.” A displeased scowl settled on Kat’s face.
“Get over yourself.” Sameya despised fragile women. And she hadn’t suspected the other woman would be a weak link. Most witches weren’t. “You might be strong for your age, but even I have no problem swiping through your magic. That spell you had around the house wouldn’t have contained me for two minutes.”
“Yet, the magic in the collar I created keeps you trapped to the men.”
Sameya grinned. She could work with cocky. “That’s different. It’s mixed with Maximus’s power.” He is damn strong, not to mention persuasive. And she was feeling a whole lot of protectiveness knowing her mates were somewhere and in danger. “Vampyrs are unaffected by my siren spell. That means so is his magic.”
The bedroom door opened. Kat’s shoulders snapped straight, and her glare waylaid the entrance. Patience taxed, Sameya watched as a soldier entered. She’d recognize the arrogance of a leader anywhere, and this man wasn’t wearing it in his demeanor.
“Good to see you’re awake, Sameya.”
Interesting that he knew her name when she had no idea who commanded him. She inclined her head. “Wish I could say the same.” Since he wasn’t the leader of this expedition, she didn’t bother asking for his name.
His gaze traveled the length of her naked body, his eyes darkening. “You brought this on yourself.” He clucked his tongue at her.
Typical henchmen style to lay the blame on others.
The stranger made a ‘come here’ motion with his hand. “Gryphon wants to see you.”
“Gryphon?” Hadn’t Gabriel said that name when she’d first met him?
“Your captor and new master.”
Imbecile. No one mastered her. “We must not keep his highness waiting. But….” She trailed a fingertip around her bellybutton, drawing his focus. “You’ll understand if I demand some clothing first.”
He held up the bag he carried in his left hand. “Of course, Sameya. Gryphon sends you attire. I doubt they’re what you’d prefer, but slaves aren’t allotted finer wear.”
“You think I’m a slave?”
He touched the iron shackles on one of her wrists before offering her the bag of clothing. “Those were specifically made for you. Iron laced with magic.”
Atlantian magical inscriptions that can subdue a younger siren, but not one of my advanced age. Proof the one she sought was younger than her and wasn’t aware of her immunity. The siren responsible for her predicament would suffer.
Gryphon’s guard stepped closer, peering down at her. She hoped he didn’t think he cowed her with the way he towered over her. “He’s promised to give you to me when he’s finished with you. A reward for helping bring you to justice.”